captain came on the loudspeaker to make her perfunctory greetings while
the flight attendants went about their normal routine–a routine that
was about to be interrupted.
All heads turned to the red flash that erupted on the right side of the
aircraft. Those sitting in the window seats on that side watched in the
starkest horror as the right wing buckled, metal skin tearing, rivets
popping free. Bare seconds passed before two-thirds of the wing sheared
off, carrying with it the starboard-side Rolls-Royce engine.
Like savaged veins, shredded hydraulic lines and cables whipped back and
forth in the fierce headwind as jet fuel from the cracked fuel tank
doused the fuselage.
The L500 immediately rolled left over on its back, making a shambles of
the cabin. Inside the fuselage every single human being screamed in
mortal terror as the plane whipped across the sky like a tumbleweed,
completely out of control. Passengers up and down the aisle were
violently torn from their seats. For most of them the short trip from
the seats was fatal. Screams of pain were heard as heavy pieces of
luggage, disgorged from compartments torn open when the shock waves of
air pressure gone wild exceeded their locking mechanism’s strength
limits, collided with soft human flesh.
The old woman’s hand slipped open and the rosary beads slid down to the
floor, which was now the ceiling of the upside-down plane. Her eyes
were wide open now, but not in fear. She was one of the fortunate ones.
A fatal heart attack had rescued her from the next several minutes of
sheer terror.
Twin-engine commercial jetliners are certified to fly on only one
engine. No jetliner, however, can fly with only one wing. The
air-worthiness of Flight 3223 had been irreversibly destroyed. The L500
settled into a tight nose-to-ground death spiral.
On the flight deck the two-member crew struggled valiantly with the
controls as their damaged aircraft shot downward through the overcast
skies like a spear through cotton. Unsure of the precise nature of this
catastrophe, they nevertheless were well aware that the aircraft and all
lives on board were in significant jeopardy. As they frantically tried
to regain control of the aircraft, the two pilots silently prayed they
would collide with no other plane as they hurtled to earth.
“Oh, my God!” The captain stared in disbelief at the altimeter’ as it
raced on its unstoppable course to zero. Neither the most sophisticated
avionics system in the world nor the most exceptional piloting skills
could reverse the startling truth facing every human being on the
fractured projectile: They were all going to die, and very soon. And as
happens in virtually all air crashes, the two pilots would be the first
to leave this world; but the others on board Flight 3223 would only be a
fraction of a second behind.
Lieberman’s mouth sagged open as he gripped the armrests in total
disbelief. As the plane’s nose dropped to six o’clock, Lieberman was
looking face down at the back of the seat in front of him, as if he were
at the very top of some absurd roller coaster. Unfortunately for him,
Arthur Lieberman would remain conscious until the very second the
aircraft met the immovable object that it was now racing toward. His
exit from the living would come several months ahead of schedule and not
at all according to plan. As the plane started its final descent, one
word escaped from Lieberman’s lips. Though monosyllabic, it was uttered
in one continuous shriek that could be heard over all of the other
terrifying sounds flooding the cabin.
“Noooo!”
CHAPTER TWO
WASHINGTON, D.C., METROPOLITAN AREA, ONE MONTH EARLIER
Jason Archer, his starched shirt dirty, his tie askew, labored through
the contents of the piles of boxes. A laptop sat beside him. Every few
minutes he would stop, pull a piece of paper from the morass and, using
a hand-held device, scan the contents of the paper into his lap-top.
Sweat trickled down his nose. The storage warehouse he was in was hot
and filthy. Suddenly a voice called out to him from somewhere within
the vast space. “Jason?” Footsteps approached. “Jason, are you here?”
Jason quickly closed up the box he was working on, shut down his laptop